Home Is Where The Heart Is
by matanee
Summary: The boundaries between worlds go crazy and random portals open regularly in Storybrooke. They pull people in without them realising what's happening, taking them to the Enchanted Forest. The problem is: it is a one-way ticket. There is no coming back, unless you have the right tool. When Killian Jones is pulled into a portal such as this, Emma Swan jumps after him.


The first week was easy to take.

The image of Emma getting swallowed by the portal kept Hook going for the first few days, the fact that she managed to escape - it was an accomplishment for him, especially that no one would have expected it from him. He was a pirate after all, commonly known to be selfish and treacherous, yet, now doing something good instead of committing a crime. He couldn't get rid of the satisfied smile on his face for days, even though he was only getting dry bread or nothing at all. His aching stomach was the least of his problems, and he lay down with his back against the cold stones, a sigh leaving his lips.

The dungeons in the palace of the Wicked Witch was lacking every comfort, but his circumstances didn't kill his hope.

_I will come back for you, I promise._

The chaste kiss that landed on the corner of his mouth was still burning his skin and he often found himself with his fingers raised to his lips, smiling constantly.

Then, the second week came. That's when the tortures began.

The Witch had him starve, most likely to make him beg for mercy. He decided in the beginning that he wouldn't give her the satisfaction - instead, he endured. She watched as he heaved, barely holding himself on his legs after being whipped two dozen times, sometimes even more. They didn't touch him afterwards and he stood in one place, the taste of blood sour on his tongue. She kept her distance and, also, a close eye on him, but she said nothing. At first he caught her smiling. Later - not so much. She realised he wouldn't be so easy to break, to give her answers she needed.

He remembered looking up and spitting, then saying with a smile:

"You're gonna need more than this, love."

Fury grew in her eyes then and she had him thrown in jail again, another week with just enough food and water so he wouldn't die. He tried to maintain some of his pride by not touching the food one day, but he soon found out he wouldn't get anything for three days in a row whenever he had done that.

His sudden appreciation for the leftover food that was often nearly rotten had destroyed the remnants of his pride successfully, leaving him with nothing left but his fading hope.

It was nearly a month when the Witch came into his cell for the first time instead of having him dragged in front of her. He was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his stubble unkempt and his hair longer than she remembered.

She stood with her arms folded, looking down at him.

"Now it is indeed a sad sight."

He found himself glancing up, an empty smile forming on his lips.

"I didn't ask you to look."

"Do you still believe she will come for you?" She looked downright sad, but he tore his gaze from her and stared at his knees instead. His clothes were torn and bloodied, his flesh was open for anyone to see at different parts of his body, and he didn't want to admit how hard he found to keep his eyes open most of the time. "Because I am not so sure anymore. I admit, I was pretty convinced at the beginning but... Well. It's been a month."

He swallowed and stayed unmoving. He had to remind himself that she was playing for this exactly. To plant doubt in him, to make him snap, to make him stop believing. It was painful to accept how close he actually was to giving in to her, but he had to hold on.

For a little bit longer.

A month and a half passed when they did come for him. It was the middle of the night after a rough day of painful whipping and hand-picked methods of torture, and all he was capable of was lying on his side, dangerously close to losing consciousness. His back was numb and hurting, and two strong hands picked him up, obviously paying attention on where to touch him so it wouldn't hurt. He heard himself groaning all the same but the scent was familiar and he let his head loll forward.

"You will be safe in a minute, _mate._ I gotcha."

The last thing he felt on his face was the fresh winds of the dawn and his mind slipped into darkness, the eternal comfort of a blackout.

_"Help me take this thing off instead of sulking."_

_Hook gently turned around, only to catch the sight of a very desperate Emma Swan trying to rescue herself from the hell a dress with a corset meant. She seemed so out of place that it was downright ridiculous and, despite his obviously dark mood after his plans crumbled around him once again, he found himself smiling at the woman in front of him. There was no disappointment he couldn't handle next to Emma, and the mere thought of spending a night with her under the same roof rendered him absolutely carefree and disturbingly peaceful. _

_He couldn't help himself, nonetheless, and he slowly approached her, the smile widening on his lips._

_"I shouldn't have agreed to putting it on in the first place," she muttered with her arms completely twisted behind her back, her fingers relentlessly working on easing the laces. It did no good, obviously, and he closed the distance between them swiftly with two long steps and removed her hands from her back._

_"You look lovely. Now let me help."_

_Even with a hook serving as his left hand, the task wasn't quite difficult to perform. He had completely different reasons for taking it slow, and he was glad Emma didn't seem to mind it, for he wasn't planning on rushing it at all. _

_It was one of the rare occasions when he could be this close to her without making her uncomfortable, when he could inhale her sweet scent without her noticing, when he could touch her hair and pull it to the side without having to feel guilty about it. These few moments gave him joy he couldn't express with words, and he never wanted it to end. The ivory skin was beyond tempting to touch and he could do it 'accidentally' - seeing the goosebumps all over her body, triggered by his touch, was something even better than the touch itself._

_He found himself working more and more slowly. Even long after Emma could inhale again, even long after the laces were hanging at ease, he was standing there, running his fingers over the silky material of the dress he stole for her. It looked so perfect on her, like it was made especially for her. Now he could see the line of her spine, her shape so flawless it felt physically painful not to touch. His hand lingered above her skin for a moment, rapidly racing thoughts filling his mind on pros and contras whether he should let that touch land or not. What would she say? Would she say anything at all? Would she just step away and pretend it didn't happen? Would she call him out on it?_

_He decided it didn't worth the risk. He stepped back before he could've done something stupid and he stared down at the floor, his fingers running through his hair, then his stubble. He felt a faintly pulsating knot of disappointment and emptiness in his stomach, but he ignored it._

_"You can breathe again now, Swan," he murmured, his throat gradually growing more and more narrow with every moment. He felt a tingling sensation in his fingertips where he touched her a few seconds ago, then, he fisted his hands and sighed deeply. He was ready to turn around and let her uncloth when she spoke._

_"No, I can't."_

_He raised his head, eyebrows creased in confusion. She was still showing her back to him and he didn't understand._

_"What are you talking about?"_

_"Whenever I'm with you, Killian," Emma drew a deep breath, turning around slowly. She had her arms around herself tightly so the dress wouldn't fall off, and the face she made rendered the pirate absolutely shocked. "It's like something grows inside my chest, and I can't find a way to breathe freely."_

_Killian. The only time she called him on his name was the moment she introduced him to her son - her son with false memories that did not include him. That was a scene, but this... This was real. And he was almost afraid to believe it._

_"Emma-"_

_His voice sounded weak and hoarse, a layer of hope obviously ringing in it, but he was too tired of fighting it. Also, he was completely terrified, and it wasn't a secret either._

_"It makes me scared," she continued, as if he didn't try to interrupt. He swallowed hard and listened without moving an inch. "It makes me scared because I remember how it all ended when I felt like this for the last time."_

Abandoned. Lonely. Betrayed._ He knew without explaining, and he closed his eyes for a moment before continuing to stare at her._

_"How can I know I am ready for this?" She was so scared it was basically palpable in the air and he cleared his throat. "How do I know that I can trust you?"_

_"Emma."_

_She started shaking her head a little, raising one hand in front of her lips. She was on the verge of tears and Hook took a tentative step, waiting for her reaction._

_She closed her eyes, and Hook let out a breath he was holding for a minute now. He didn't even notice._

_"Why did you jump, Emma?"_

_Emma seemed startled as he spoke, even though he sounded eternally soft and careful. She didn't open her eyes, nor did she look up, and Hook kept approaching painfully slowly. She shook her head again._

_"I fell into that portal and you knew you couldn't reach me," he continued, voice low and deeper than before. "You jumped after me. Why?"_

_He was already close enough to feel the heat radiating from her when she looked up slowly, her eyes filled with tears. He was forced to stop once her arms eased and he caught the sight of the dress dropping to the ground, the desperate lines on Emma's face hardening and her lips opening for a reply._

_She said, "I'm not good with words."_

_Then, she was hanging on his lips, and he would've been a fool to let her fall._

"Thank you."

Mary Margaret handed him a glass, and his 'thank you' matured a great lot once he felt the taste of rum inside his mouth for the first time in weeks. He drank the glass out and moaned quietly, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. She knew exactly what he needed right now.

Not what he needed the _most_, but it was certainly a start.

"Are you hungry?"

He took in his surroundings slowly. It was Storybrooke, according to the familiar design of the Charming-residency of the modern era and, also, Mary Margaret's not exactly negligible belly. She moved around the room with watchful steps, careful not to knock off anything accidentally.

He noticed the bouquet of flowers on the nightstand next to the bed as well, mismatched flowers that must have been freshly picked. He wondered who would possibly be willing to go to lengths such as this for him but, then again, he guessed they weren't for him.

There wasn't anything for him here, after all.

"No, I'm- I am fine," he muttered, feeling more confused than he knew he should have. "I will not be bothering you for much longer, just let me... Lie here for a few more minutes and I will get going."

"What are you talking about?" Her surprised face would have been endearing on any other day, but today Hook couldn't find it in himself to spend time thinking about it. He sat up, ignoring the striking pain in his back, and he stared down at his lap.

He didn't know what to say. It's not like he was supposed to say something. Anything.

"You can't go anywhere in this state, Killian. You were nearly dead when David found you. You have to rest."

A painful ache appeared around his heart at the mention of his name and he looked up, seeing Emma right where Mary Margaret was speaking to him. She kept repeating his name over and over again and he swallowed, letting out a deep breath.

_"I never apologised for having you thrown in jail."_

_She ran her finger over his hook. His left 'hand' was dimly glowing in the moonlight, and her even breaths against his bare chest felt like he was holding the entire world against him. Skin against skin, touch against touch. Even from this position, she was too beautiful for him to comprehend._

_"I resent you for doing that." He smiled lightly, turning his hook so she could keep running her finger over its surface over and over again, agonizingly slowly._

_"It means you won't accept my apology?"_

_"Did you apologize? I must have missed it."_

_"You really are impossible, Hook," she turned her head around, looking up at him with a grin. He touched his nose against her forehead and grinned back. "And so was your plan to put me in that dress and steal that bean from that old hag."_

_"You really intend to ruin this night for me?" he tilted his head slightly, eyebrows creased in playful disbelief. "She was deaf and blind. Who thought it would be so hard to steal something from her?"_

_"The only part I enjoyed was where she chased you out of her house with a broomstick," she chuckled gently, nestling back against Hook's chest, taking a deep breath. "I was sure you would kill her."_

_He wanted to say he was not that person anymore, killing innocent people in order to get what he wanted, but he stayed silent instead, focusing on Emma's heartbeat instead. He felt every throb in his own chest, her heart was beating so hard, and he smiled, burying his lips in her hair._

_"Does it still hurt?"_

_She touched the hook again, now only tentatively so he would know what she was talking about. His brows slightly rose and he raised his head._

_"Only rarely."_

_His words were followed by a longer period of silence while she gently pulled both of his arms around her, leaving the hook and delicately caressing the tattoo on his lower arm instead. His breath was caught in his lungs for a second, already knowing what the next question would be. She followed the lines slowly, her touch barely even there - he felt it like she was burning him, though, and he let his eyes fall closed._

_"Does this still hurt?"_

_He swallowed, turning the thought inside his mind once, twice, a dozen times. His mouth felt like cotton when he finally managed to answer, Emma already looking up at him with sad eyes._

_"Not when I'm with you." He shook his head a little, watching as the realisation yet again processed inside her. He knew she was looking for a lie, to catch him before she was completely lost in him, and finding nothing untrue in his words, she slightly shivered in his arms. He had told her so many times before, he had proved it and he would do it over and over again, but he knew he wouldn't have to do it anymore. She knew now._

_He smiled gently, and she placed her palm on his chest, snaking up her hand until she could pull him down by the back of his neck and kiss him._

"If this is about Emma-"

"It has nothing to do with her."

He was putting on his coat, more slowly than how he would've liked. Every limb, every inch on his body was aching, and even the otherwise easy step of fixing his hook took more time than usually. He started to think a part of him was working so slowly on purpose because it didn't want to leave.

How convenient that he learned to rely on his brain more than on his heart.

"You are acting like a child," he could see Mary Margaret shaking her head, an exasperated sigh leaving her lips. "Just because she isn't here it doesn't mean she doesn't care about you, Hook!"

"Don't. Just don't," he shot a smile at her, empty and cold. He didn't feel angry, he didn't feel disappointed or betrayed. He felt sore. And a little bit of comforting wasn't going to change that, he had already learnt as much in hundreds of years.

"Oh, I can see what you are thinking," she continued, as if he hadn't said anything, and he sighed deeply, staring up at the ceiling. Her voice was frustrated, and he knew she was really close to shouting now, but she tried to maintain her irritation just for a little bit longer. "_'I bet she never told you what happened in the Enchanted Forest,' _and _'How would you know what it is like to be in love with someone who seemingly doesn't love you,'_ and the great classic, _'How would you know what it is like to wait for someone who might never come?'_ Well, let me enlighten you, Captain Hook, I know exactly what you went through, and you know what I learned? You don't just leave, you don't just give up, you don't just let it go!"

He felt like he was standing under a waterfall, cold washing through his body from the top of his head right to his toes. He felt his eyes closing and he couldn't help it - he was feeling too much and he couldn't handle it.

_How can I know I am ready for this? How do I know that I can trust you?_

He asked the same questions from himself right now, but there was no one to answer him directly this time.

"She told you what happened?" he bowed his head lightly, his words weighing down his tongue like they were made of stone. He saw her nodding from the corner of his eye and he nodded in return, pursing his lips slightly.

"I was against your... relationship for a very long time," Mary Margaret sighed, her voice more collected and much calmer than before. She approached slowly. "Even when she fell through that portal and returned alone with that desperate look on her face, I was ready to defend what I thought was right."

"That her place was with Neal?" Hook asked quietly, turning his head only slightly so he could look at her. She shook her head.

"That her _heart_ was with Neal," she murmured. "Later that night, she told me what happened between you two, and I saw how wrong I was. For a long time now, her heart was with you, I was just too blind to see it."

She stopped right in front of him and he looked down at her. He couldn't see Mary Margaret anymore, all he saw was Snow White, a mother, caring about her daughter, trying to turn every stone so she could be happy. Somewhere deep in his heart, the sight reminded him of his own mother, but he swept the thought away, not ready to hold it in his mind for too long.

"She's not here, but it's not because she doesn't like you, Killian," she said, a faint smile forming on her lips. "She isn't here because she thinks you wouldn't want her to."

_"Where the hell were you?"_

_Hook let the door slowly fall closed behind him as he stepped into the small house, the blankets from last night still scattered all over the floor. Emma was already dressed, her accusing gaze falling on him like cold raindrops after maddening heat. He found himself smiling at the sight, her perfect body leaning against the table, and he looked her in the eyes._

_"Were you worried?"_

_"I was more furious that you left me here on my own," she pushed herself from the table, brows creased as she walked closer. "And don't even try to tell me you were on a morning walk. You are not the type."_

_"So I can't have my own secrets anymore?" He enjoyed teasing her more than he should've, especially because of the growing irritation in her eyes that made her even more beautiful. Emma wasn't fond of his games, though, and he knew he couldn't go much further with this little charade anymore._

_"You can have your secrets when we're back in Storybrooke, but as long as we are trapped in this damn forest, you will not be keeping anything from me," she stated seriously, folding her arms in front of her chest. "Now. Where were you?"_

_Hook let out and exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes so hard it hurt, then, he produced a small bottle from his pocket with a satisfied smile. Her shock was tangible and he straightened, waiting proudly for her reaction._

_"Is this what I think it is?" she blurted out, switching her gaze between the bottle and Hook. In the bottle was a sparkling, lilac drink, one that was radiating magic all over the place, and Emma took it carefully, turning it around in her palm._

_"Depends on what you think it is," he raised one eyebrow, but her smile was giving her away. They both knew that she knew exactly what she was holding, and the happiness in her eyes was already something worth waking up for that morning. _

_"Did you go back to town?"_

_"I couldn't let that witch destroy my pride completely," Hook shrugged lightly. "She hid the beans very carefully so I couldn't find any. But, at least, now you can give it to Henry or your parents or whomever you choose and they will remember what they missed."_

_"Or Neal," she stared at the bottle intently and Hook nodded after a moment of pause, trying to ignore the slight stinging he felt sweeping through his chest._

_"Or Neal."_

_Emma looked up, then, a smile gradually growing on her face - the most beautiful kind of smile Hook was ever given. Her eyes were smiling with her, and he knew it was more gorgeous than any sunset or sunrise, any rainbow and any falling star he had ever seen from the Jolly Roger._

_"Thank you, Killian."_

_The stinging was suddenly gone, replaced by a cocoon of warmth around his heart. He nodded, smiling back with all the wonder he had felt in that moment._

_"You are welcome, Emma."_

_She didn't have to know if he had anything else in his pocket besides that bottle._

"You couldn't steal the beans, but you managed to steal that dust," Mary Margaret sat carefully on the edge of the bed, her hand resting on her huge belly. "Why did you tell her it was for one person only?"

He watched her, the otherwise so fragile woman now seeming like a real tigress, ready to strike down on anyone who dared even come close to the people she loved. The resemblance with her daughter was so obvious that it would have had him smile on any other day. Now, he was way too confused and tired for that.

"It was the only way I could give her a chance," he murmured, his voice low in the silent apartment. "Had I told her the truth, she would have resisted that I went with her. This way... I could make sure the Witch wouldn't return to Storybrooke."

"And how did you do that?" Mary Margaret sounded surprised.

"I have my charm," he shrugged lightly, but all he earned was an eyeroll. "She was sure Emma would return for me. Which she didn't. Torturing me must've kept her entertained after she realised she wouldn't get to Emma."

He heard the empathy in that sigh she made and he turned his back to her, aimlessly walking around the room with the slight limp he had. He wasn't exactly sure what ached in his leg, he just knew he couldn't bear standing on it for longer than a few seconds.

"She wanted to go back. Every waking hour, she was looking for a way to get to you," Mary Margaret started softly. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, his heart throbbing in his throat. "Then, as the weeks passed, she grew so desperate that you would hate her for not finding you sooner that she kept saying she wouldn't be strong enough to go back. She was trying to tell herself that the night you two shared meant nothing, but she couldn't fool herself. When we managed to find a way to get through that portal, she stayed behind in fear of what she would find once she's there again."

"So that's why Charming came," he blinked, the picture in front of him becoming clearer with every second, and Mary Margaret nodded.

He could've never imagined Emma being so guilt-ridden because of him, especially after that breakthrough in their relationship. She should've known that he would have waited for her, until his last breath left him.

Stupid, stupid girl.

And stupid, stupid Hook.

"I fathom from your expression that you would like to talk to her."

He looked at her and Mary Margaret was smiling so brightly that it could've brought even the darkest soul back to the light. He didn't have to say anything when she was already on her feet, slowly walking closer.

"She's probably at Granny's. If David's with her, just tell him that my water might've broken. He will definitely leave you two alone then." She winked and he couldn't hold back the smile anymore.

It was the first time he didn't feel like an outsider amongst these people. And what is contentment if not having a home besides your ship?

_"My ship might not be here, but I can steal one, aye?"_

_The dock was busy and loud from people, mongers trying to sell their merchandise, sailors returning from the sea, rolling giant barrels in front of them. Children were chasing each other, screaming and shouting, not stopping for even a moment to catch a breath. The look on Emma's face obviously gave away that she didn't expect this from fairytale land, and the sight of complete shock amused Hook greatly._

_"I wouldn't be surprised at all to see Jack Sparrow jumping off the Black Pearl," she sighed deeply, only realising a moment later that this reference to popular culture wasn't finding the best audience at the moment. She watched Hook for a second, something akin to amusement sparkling in her eyes. "You will have to see that movie once we are out of here."_

_"Is that a proposal to a date?" he turned to her with a half-smile, honest surprise colouring his tone, and she shrugged with a light chuckle._

_"You get us out of here first, and then I might give you a chance to take me out for a real date," she raised one eyebrow questioningly, as if she would've expected Hook to have a word against this offer. It was fair enough, and the pirate nodded, the smile never leaving his face._

_"And I'm gonna hold you to your word, Swan."_

_"We have to get out of here first, remember?" She turned her head back towards the ships and the people. They were standing not too far from the harbour, but not close enough for others to catch sight of them. "How are we going to steal a ship from here? This place is filled with people, they are going to catch us. There is no way the Witch doesn't have her men out here somewhere, it's like a freaking beehive for these people."_

_"You underestimate me, love," he smirked knowingly, showing up his hook as proof. "I am a pirate. I know how to walk around unnoticed here."_

_He actually preferred this side of this world more to the Enchanted Forest, especially that pirates like him were often showing up here, offering a chance to win money, rum or strange maps he could kill time with. He was going to use that last bit as an advantage there and then._

_Emma rolled her eyes swiftly. It wasn't hard to tell that the entire situation was less than impressive for her._

_"The whole plan is a disaster. We will never get to Agrabah," she shook her head but, the moment Hook caught her hand with his, she stared at him again, then down at their entangled fingers._

_Her touch was warm and, after she didn't make a move to get out of his hold for longer than ten seconds, he felt a smile appearing on his face. Not Captain Hook's smirk this time - a real smile, from Killian Jones._

_"I will not let anything bad happen to you, Emma. I swear, you can trust me."_

_There was a moment of peace where he knew she was looking for lies, again, but the moment she realised there was none, she gave him a warm smile and squeezed his hand._

_"I thought we were through with the wooing, Killian," she noted, her tone slightly playful, then, she pulled her hand out of his hold gently, stepping out from their hiding place. "Let's steal that ship, aye, Captain?"_

_And he knew he would never regret waiting for her. In that moment, it was the only thing he was completely sure of._

The streets of Storybrooke were almost completely empty so late at night, and he walked towards Granny's with heavy steps. He didn't know which one hurt more: his foot, his back or his heart from pounding so hard. All he knew is that, from the window, he could see Emma's long, blonde locks, he could see all the people around her, her family, and they were smiling and laughing together, alongside with Henry. Slowly, he stopped in front of the window, unable to make himself enter, and he watched them instead.

She had everything. Right there, with her, everything she needed was surrounding her. Who was he to barge in there and ruin all this? Who was he to assume that she needed him? She might miss him at first, yes, but would it be worth it? Would it be okay to go in, return into her life and risk her happiness? Would it be okay to leave her, just like Neal did? To abandon her after everything they've been through, after everything he'd promised her?

No. He knew it wouldn't, but his urge to turn around and run was just as hard as the other urge to go in and hear her laughter. To hear her laughter every day from that moment on, to never leave her again.

He was too late to make a choice now, though. For, before he could have turned around, Henry was already looking at him, eyes wide with wonder, and soon David was joining his grandson in staring. Only Emma sat with her back to the window, but, after seeing that everyone was staring at the window, she turned as well.

And that face alone was worth all the suffering he had to go through with the Wicked Witch.

He saw her mouth moving, her lips forming the word 'Hook' perfectly. There were so many emotions in those grey eyes that he felt his chest narrowing with this feeling that always clawed its way under his skin, whenever he was with Emma. He swallowed hard, following her movements as she stood from the booth they were all sitting in, making her way to the exit.

_Last chance to flee, Hook,_ he heard his coward inner voice speaking, tempting him to move, but all he could take was one step backwards so the door wouldn't hit him. He was stuck then, staring at Emma Swan, inhaling her scent that she brought with her in the wind, and she was so real he couldn't even comprehend the sight.

For so many days, so many weeks he was only holding her image in his mind, recalling it over and over again so he wouldn't forget. Before that, he had done that for a year. And before that, he had done that to Milah countless times - before Emma. Because now, he accepted the unchangeable and moved on, the old habits aside, their places taken by this woman that drove him absolutely crazy.

And now, she was standing right in front of him, looking just as upset as him.

"What were you thinking?"

Hook's surprise was almost tangible in the air at the words she threw at him and he raised his eyebrows, completely confused.

"Pardon?"

"You lied to me!" she raised her voice only slightly, but it was enough for the empty streets to echo with her anger. "You said the dust was only enough for one and you lied! You could have come, we could have come home right there in that house, and you lied to me! You stayed there and-"

He found it unexpectedly unpleasant how painful it was to hear her voice break but, under the shock, he fathomed his voice would have broken as well. She didn't look simply upset anymore - she was furious and desperate, and he couldn't find a word to comfort her.

She closed her eyes for a second and waited, then, she took a deep breath.

"Why? Why did you lie, Hook?"

The words were much quieter this time and he stared down at the concrete, swallowing hard. She was right to be angry, but would it be right to tell her the truth? To face his own selfishness?

He guessed he had no choice now. She needed to know.

"I didn't tell you about the dust because I wanted to take you on an adventure," he looked up, biting on the inside of his mouth while he was looking for the right words. "I wanted to go to Agrabah with you, to spend time with you, I wanted to find that lantern for you so you could have used it to- to anything you wanted. To get back to Storybrooke, to find Neal! It's going to sound crazy, but I was selfish for you, Emma!"

"I didn't want to be with Neal, I wanted to be with _you_!"

The silence that followed her yell was soon broken by her sigh and he creased his brows in confusion. He didn't understand, he couldn't see sense behind this anymore and he watched, jaw slightly hanging.

"What?"

"If you wanted to be with me too then why didn't you come when you could?"

He kept his eyes on hers, listening to his own rapid heartbeat, waiting for an answer to show up between the beats. There was only silence and the sound of her breathing.

He remembered everything and it came to his mind, he saw the whole thing in front of him as if it was happening all over again. How they stole the ship, how they set sail and were ready to take that journey to a faraway land he was only dreaming of for centuries, and then how the Wicked Witch appeared out of nowhere. An army of flying monkeys were in her heel and Hook knew there was nothing else to do.

He took the dust and opened the portal, pushing Emma towards it. Of course, she didn't want to go. She begged, he could still feel her trembling fingers on his forearm, then, he told her something he had always wanted to tell.

That he wouldn't be able to abandon her. Because he loved her too much to do that.

The portal closed behind her, and he was captured by the Wicked Witch. She took him to her palace, and he knew Emma would find a way back to him. In the meantime, he fathomed he could gain some information, to make his stay useful.

He didn't count on the torturing.

"I gave you a chance."

It was his only answer, a silent but honest revelation that wasn't quite surprising, nor actually satisfying, and he knew that. Yet, he couldn't say anything else and he ran his hand over his face, sighing into his palm nervously.

That's when he saw her opening her lips to speak.

"I was trying so hard to believe that you were still alive," Emma shook her head, her voice weak and shaded by tears. He watched her with his throat completely narrowed, watched as her gaze grew blurred and her lips started trembling. It broke his heart. "And a part of me felt so stupid because I knew that it would have been too good to be true."

It was something he thought would be impossible, seeing Emma cry because of him. His legs were incapable to let him move closer, and he watched her breaking down her walls, he watched her letting him in, he watched her being so afraid that she was making a mistake. He knew he should've been happy about seeing her trusting him enough finally, but he couldn't find it in himself. To be that selfish again while she was so fragile, it was something he never wanted to repeat in the future.

"I wished Neal were dead and he turned out to be alive," Emma continued, wiping a tear that was breaking free, rolling down on her cheek. "I was afraid that if I wanted you to be alive, you would die and I would not be able to stop it. Just like with Neal. And I couldn't deal with losing you that way, Killian, so don't you ever think of leaving me again."

After knowing her for years, he still found it difficult sometimes to understand her. Now, however, he knew exactly what she meant, and it wasn't a simple plea.

It was her way to tell him _she loved him._ And if that hadn't been enough to break the roots he grew in the ground minutes ago, he didn't know what would be.

In the next moment, he was holding her in his arms tightly, keeping her tear covered face against his neck, having her all over himself. He knew words would have only ruined the moment so he stayed silent, inhaling her scent until she got into her veins, spreading through his body relentlessly, and he realised it was everything he ever wanted and had to wait for for so long.

Every single moment was worth it. Not just waiting for Emma - hearing the people cheering inside Granny's was something pretty fantastic as well.

And now he knew that, finally, he _really_ had a home aside from the Jolly Roger.


End file.
